


Leechlake Forest Camp for the Naturally Unnatural and Supernaturally Gifted

by neverbirds



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Comedy, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 14:25:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14046216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverbirds/pseuds/neverbirds
Summary: “This was a good idea,” says Roxas, biting straight into his ice cream like the animal he is. Axel, delicately, licks his like a normal person. Well, if a normal person had a forked tongue. Which they don’t.“You eat ice cream like an insane person,” says Axel, watching the hint of Roxas’ fangs warily as he bites down on his ice cream even more obnoxiously this time.It’s hot out, to say it’s past midnight, and they’re sat on top of the hill in their pyjamas. Axel hovered outside of Roxas’ cabin until Roxas finally emerged, bleary eyed, and told him to fuck off. But that led to an argument, which led to a reconciliation, which then led to a kiss-and-make-up, only with ice cream instead of kissing. Not that Axel wants kissing. That would be ridiculous. There would be way too many teeth involved.Or; a romantic comedy about ice cream, dead poets, and summer love.





	Leechlake Forest Camp for the Naturally Unnatural and Supernaturally Gifted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scarii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarii/gifts).



> Apparently I've just come out of some kind of five-day long fugue state, and found that I'd written this in a fever dream. I'm a sucker for supernatural romcoms, what can I say? 
> 
> For harlequinberry, who I would say in my partner in crime, but honestly she's just an enabler. What is this? Who knows. 
> 
> I hope you have anywhere near as much fun reading this as I did writing it!

The sun is shining, the trees are swaying in the warm afternoon breeze, but the birds decidedly aren’t singing, because one of the new recruits  _ ate  _ them. Axel, for all intents and purposes, is absolutely delighted.   
  
It starts a little bit like this -- 

“Hi,” says Axel. “Welcome to Leechlake Forest Camp for the Naturally Unnatural and Supernaturally Gifted.” 

Kairi-the-mermaid flicks her tail, splashing water droplets all over Sora-the-werewolf. Sora doesn’t seem to mind all that much, but  _ Roxas  _ does, and to Axel, that already makes all the difference. He’s known the guy like, ten minutes, but Axel thinks he might be in love. 

Not like, in  _ that  _ way. Roxas just has an absolutely enchanting scowl on his face,  _ and  _ he kicked Riku, and also he  _ ate all of the birds.  _ Axel is already aware that Roxas is going to be his main source of entertainment for the summer. 

“Okay, so,” says Axel. “There really aren’t that many rules. Number one, please don’t harm, maul and definitely don’t eat the kids.” 

“What else am I supposed to have for supper?” says Roxas, completely deadpan, and Sora hits him with the back of his hand. Axel grins. 

“Rule number two,” he continues. “Well, that’s kind of it. Generally we let them do what they want, and try to make sure they don’t kill themselves. Or each other. Basically, just try to help them control their powers or whatever.” 

“That’s it?” says Naminé. She’s a witch, and it takes all of about two seconds for Axel to figure  _ that  _ one out. She’s kind of creepy. That’s okay, though. Axel likes creepy. 

“We are glorified babysitters,” says Axel. “And anyway,  _ I’m  _ your boss, and when did you ever expect a demon to play by the rules?” 

He can’t help himself, his eyes flit over to Roxas, who is basically looking like he wants to be anywhere but here. He wonders how Sora managed to drag his brother into this. 

“Demons have lots of rules,” says Riku the vampire. It takes Axel even  _ less  _ than two seconds to figure that out. “We all do. Comes with the territory.” 

“I’m not talking about fucking, like,  _ code of honours  _ or whatever. Just make sure the kids are having a good time, alright?” 

“You suck at this,” says Roxas, and Axel practically swoons. 

“That’s no way to speak to a lady,” says Axel, flicking his tail indignantly. “Okay, so. Kids are gonna get here in an hour or so. So get to know each other, I guess. We’re gonna be spending a lot of time together.” 

“Oh, fantastic,” says Roxas. Sora nudges him with his elbow, and they seem to have a very complicated conversation with their eyebrows, leaving Roxas with an even bigger scowl on his face, but Sora looks over the moon - pun intended. 

Sora almost instantly turns to talk to Kairi, and Axel thinks,  _ ah, summer love.  _ It’s been a long time since  _ he  _ had a summer fling, but he much prefers drama when he’s not actually involved,  _ and  _ it’s actually really hard to get a job when you’re demon who’s dad kicked you out of Hell because you were a little bit too  _ nice.  _ Which nobody upstairs even believes, anyway, but Axel really doesn’t mind the rumours that he offended the devil himself or went on a bender too wild for even a demon, or that he got a succubus pregnant and was banished because he brought shame down on the family. In truth, he just really hated torturing people. He hates abject misery. You would think, wouldn’t you, that being a demon would mean you were up to all sorts of mischief, but they’re all so serious about the whole thing and it’s like they’ve never even heard of the concept of fun. So, Axel prefers the rumours, because really, does it get more embarrassing than getting kicked out of Hell because he  _ smiled  _ too much? 

“You’re already my favourite,” says Axel, sneaking up behind Roxas in that way only he can do. Roxas, to his credit, doesn’t even flinch. Must be the werewolf instincts. 

“Fuck off,” says Roxas. 

“Really,” says Axel, snaking around Roxas to stand in front of him. “You could at least pretend you want to be here.” 

Roxas bares his teeth. 

“What crawled up your ass and died?” says Axel. 

“ _ Sora, _ ” says Roxas. He doesn’t say anything else. 

“Ah. Well, the summer ahead of us is bursting with possibilities,” says Axel, slinging an arm around Roxas’ shoulder. “You’ll be changed men by the end of it.” 

Roxas snorts. He knocks his elbow into Axel’s, and Axel’s heart would probably miss a beat, if he actually had one. 

_ Well,  _ he thinks, as he looks over the new recruits. This summer is definitely looking more promising than the last. 

***

The kids are really quite an excitable lot this year, which is kind of hilarious because the only counselor who can match their enthusiasm is Sora, whilst the others just lay around looking depressed. 

Riku stands around looking all stoic and calm, hiding under the shade of a tree, huddled with the other vampire babies, who are just as stoic and calm to match. Axel isn’t even sure if they talk, or if they all just stand around looking moody and menacing. He’s never quite gotten the hang of vampires. He’s a pretty high energy guy, all things considered, while vampires are... not. 

Kairi would be more useful if she could leave the river, which obviously she can’t, but she takes the lead on swimming activities like it’s no bother to her at all. It must be kind of annoying, having to hang around with Roger the Weird Slimy Fish Boy all day long, but there  _ have _ been rumours of a Kraken the whole time Axel has been here, which is all sorts of exciting. Kairi refuses to confirm or deny its existence. He takes this as a big thumbs up to the Kraken idea, and Axel has taken it upon himself to get a glimpse of the big guy at least once this summer. It’s also a great deterrent, telling the kids that there’s a literal sea monster who will eat them if they swim out too far. 

Naminé, bless her odd, fragile heart, mostly sits around drawing. Which is worrying, because she can  _ literally enchant the drawings  _ to come to life whenever she feels like it. Thankfully she’s not malicious in any way, shape or form, so she mostly draws snacks for Roxas to eat when  _ your blood sugar is too low, Roxas,  _ and apparently  _ this doesn’t help your attitude problem. Have some chocolate.  _ The kids like her a lot, because children are ‘precious’, according to her, and they make her smile which a nice thing to see because she seems to suffer from bouts of existential depression quite frequently, so Axel doesn’t mind it all that much that she refuses to get her hands dirty. 

Sora runs around after the kids like he was born to, which is  _ excellent.  _ They’re only a few days in, and Axel already knows that the camp would fall apart without him. He really enjoys play fighting, and Axel assumes it’s a dog thing. He’s also the most obnoxiously enthusiastic person Axel has ever encountered, and ridiculously athletic, and he also lets some of the clingier puppies hang onto his leg and breezes around the place like it’s no big deal to give a hundred piggybacks a day. Axel is eternally grateful for Sora’s presence, because the rest of them are hopeless cases. 

Roxas - is Roxas, really, and Axel  _ should  _ yell at him to be more involved, to swear less, and try to at least smoke where there aren’t any children nearby, because he  _ is  _ his boss, and he _is_ getting paid to be here, but he’s kind of like a walking, talking entertainment system for Axel. So he lets him do what he wants, following him around, pressing every button he can think of just to see what reaction he’ll get. He doesn’t think that Roxas minds him all that much, despite his very non-verbal and painful protestations, because sometimes his mouth quirks in a very delightful way, and Axel is pretty certain he mostly pulls that vaguely amused, vaguely violent face around Axel. 

“He’s cute,” says Maisy the thirteen-year-old fairy, perching on his shoulder. Maggie the fairy lands on his other shoulder, fluttering her wings, and makes a little  _ mm  _ sound of agreement. 

“Buzz off,” says Axel. “I call dibs.”

Maisy and Maggie giggle. 

“Don’t you have activities to do?” says Axel. “Like leaving me alone?”

“You’re a terrible camp counselor,” says Maisy. 

“Just because you’ve been here longer than me,” says Axel. “I know, I know, you’ve seen it all.”

“You’re our favourite, though,” says Maggie, and then possibly kisses him on the cheek. It feels more like a tiny fly flew into him. 

He watches them fly off, flitting around some of the young sea creatures, hovering over the water’s edge. The summer’s brought all sorts; little werewolf puppies, a couple of vampire babies, a poltergeist, a banshee, some, some,  _ weird fish people _ , a very small and kind of hilarious looking centaur, even a straight up ghost. It’s good, though. Axel enjoys variety. Back in Hell, everybody was all like,  _ oh, we’re demons, better worship at the altar of Devil  _ and  _ we all wear the same boring black cloaks  _ and  _ we deliver the same mind-numbing speeches over and over again we’re surprised Axel’s ears haven’t fallen off.  _ It’s boring. Axel hates boring. Axel just wants a little adventure, and when he looks out over the grass bank with the kids and the counsellors spilled out over the landscape, bursting at the edges of his vision, he hopes he might just get one this year. 

***

Roxas really is a sad person, thinks Axel, watching him morosely pulling blades of grass with more force than strictly necessary, sat as far as away as physically possible from the kids without being completely out of eyeshot. 

Sora keeps coming up to him to tell him something, and every time his frown gets deeper. He really doesn’t want to be here and Axel feels pretty bad about it. He’s nosy enough to be desperate to find out exactly how he found himself at Leechlake Forest Camp for the Naturally Unnatural and Supernaturally Gifted, but perceptive enough to know to leave it alone. 

“Pipecleaner?” he offers. 

Naminé is running arts and crafts this afternoon, and Roxas looks like he might have an aversion to PVA glue. 

“Get lost,” says Roxas. 

“Only if you ask nicely,” says Axel. 

Roxas doesn’t say anything, which is somewhat infuriating. He does this a lot. He seems to operate under mostly non-verbal conditions. 

“You know,” says Axel, flopping down next to him with an  _ oomph.  _ “Maybe you should become bffs with Riku. You both hate talking.” 

Roxas, once again, doesn’t say anything with his mouth. His eyebrows are telling a different story, however. 

“I mean, obviously I would be wildly jealous if you broke up with me for Riku,” says Axel, desperately trying to fill the silence. 

“I don’t even like you,” Roxas mutters. 

“Maybe not,” says Axel. “But I’ll grow on you.” 

Roxas remains silent. He’s a tough nut to crack, but that doesn’t mean Axel isn’t going to try. He loves challenges. He  _ rises  _ to challenges. Who wants an easy life, right? 

“Hey,” says Axel, pulling out his sock puppet, flapping its mouth with his hand. “I’m Roxas. I’m the grumpiest werewolf in the whole world. I’m allergic to having fun, and I hate literally everything. Apart from my best friend Axel, who is devilishly handsome and the funniest person I’ve ever met. I love him.” 

Roxas looks up at him, and - are Axel’s eyes deceiving him? Is Roxas  _ smiling?  _

“An uncanny impression,” he says. “But you got my eyes all wrong.” 

He pokes at the buttons on Axel’s knuckles. Naminé made them herself, drawing whatever craft supplies they needed and then bringing them to life. 

“I  _ know,”  _ Axel deflates. “But Naminé said she didn’t have a crayon the colour of the sunlight glinting on the ocean on a warm and breezy August afternoon. So I had to settle with a boring cobalt. Oh, I hope this hasn’t ruined our relationship for good.” 

“Well,” says Roxas, reaching out to poke the Roxas-puppet again. “I like the ears?”

Axel  _ beams  _ at him. 

“Hey, man -”

“If you’re about to say something serious to me, I might break out into hives,” Roxas warns him. 

“I just wanted to say,” Axel continues, as if he was never interrupted. “That you clearly don’t want to be here, and as lead counsellor, I have a duty to protect all my children and make sure they’re having the best time of their young lives. Including my adult children. You never stop being a mother, you know?”

“Oh my God,” says Roxas. 

“Anyway, just like - if there’s anything I can do to make you less miserable, just let me know?” 

Roxas stares at him. Then he stares at him for a little longer, and then a little longer than that. 

“Um,” says Axel. He uses the puppet to talk again, a pitch higher. “Gee, Axel, that’s so nice of you, thanks!” 

“Yeah,” says Roxas. “What he said.” 

Then, inexplicably, he pushes Axel over. 

“Agh!” says Axel, emerging with grass stains down his arm and mud on his puppet. “What was that for?”

Roxas shrugs. 

“Wanna go get some ice cream?” Roxas says, instead of answering. 

“I - yes.” He wants to make a jibe about Roxas and puppets, but decides against it, because who is he to look a gift horse in the mouth? “Yes, that sounds nice.” 

He pulls Roxas up with him, and they walk in tandem, not really saying anything at all but the promise of ice cream seems to carry a lot more meaning than stupid words, anyway. 

***

How Axel came to be camp leader is anybody’s guess. The first year he was here, he accidentally-on-purpose set one of the cabins on fire, and then when they miraculously let him back the  _ second  _ year, one of the kids almost drowned until she discovered the latent ability to grow gills. The third year he slept with two different people on camp grounds, but that was only a rumour and actually didn’t happen at all, but mischievous demons like Axel aren’t known for their honesty. 

So now he’s on year four, and nobody else bothered to stick around, because to be perfectly frank, working here kind of sucks. You’d think that a summer camp for kids of the non-human kind would be interesting, but once you’ve seen one vampire child try to suck the blood out of a unicorn, you’ve seen it all. 

The unicorn is totally fine, by the way. In fact, she seems to have taken a leaf out of Axel’s book, and is following Roxas around like a puppy.  

“It’s so  _ embarrassing,”  _ Roxas laments, head in his hands. Axel rubs his back soothingly, and tries to not think about how it might be kind of like petting a dog and if he should risk the safety of his hand from very sharp teeth - which Roxas has already proven, several times, that he’s not afraid to use - by scratching behind his ears. 

“It’s not all that bad,” says Axel. “You’re all virginal anyway, it’s not like this is news to anybody.” 

“I hate you,” says Roxas. Axel flicks his ear. 

“You hate everything,” he says. “Try harder to insult me next time.”

He can practically  _ hear  _ Roxas rolling his eyes from behind his hands. He doesn’t know why Roxas is getting all hot and bothered about it, anyway. It’s not that big of a deal. 

“It’s not that big of a deal,” says Axel, patting him lightly. He’s amazed that Roxas hasn’t shoved him off yet, and he’s milking today’s lax approach to the no-touching-Roxas rule. “Why is this bothering you so much?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Roxas mutters under his breath. Axel would like to know. He would like to know a lot, actually, about his new favourite creature, because he’s absolutely fascinating and Axel can’t get enough of pulling his pigtails. “I wouldn’t be so annoyed if she was following literally anybody else, too.” 

“So you’re waiting until marriage,” Axel shrugs. “Waiting for the right person. Whatever floats your boat. Girls love that kind of stuff.” 

Roxas finally lifts his head, and looks at Axel. 

“Right,” says Roxas. “Girls.”

Axel doesn’t have the time to ponder  _ that  _ comment too much, because Princess the Unicorn takes that as her cue to appear out of literally fucking nowhere to nudge at the back of Roxas’ head. 

“Aaargh,” says Roxas, or something equally as courageous and masculine, and jumps about three feet into the air. Axel laughs, and pats the side of Princess’ head. 

“Good girl,” he tells her, and offers her a bite of his apple. She neighs in happiness. At least, that’s how Axel chooses to interpret it. “You know, you could probably ride her, if you wanted. Make camp history. Nobody has ever been able to, and Devil knows they’ve tried.” 

“I would rather die,” says Roxas. 

“No, you wouldn’t,” says Axel, happily. “You’ll end up in Hell, and trust me, they’re not very nice to annoying little werewolves with attitude problems.” 

Roxas glares at Axel, and then at Princess, and then back to Axel. 

“You’re the one with the attitude problem,” Roxas says. 

“Pot’s on the phone,” says Axel. “It wants to speak with the kettle.” 

Roxas takes that as his cue to flip him off, turn on his heel and stalk off, Princess hot on his heels. Axel, because he loves stray puppies, follows him. 

He’s got a problem, and that problem is Roxas-sized. Axel didn’t really think it was a problem at all but then Naminé cornered him yesterday with a crayon drawing of Roxas scowling and Axel looking at him with actual hearts for eyes, and said  _ do you even hear yourself talk  _ when Axel said it was his favourite drawing yet. 

“Roxas,” says Axel. “Wait up.” 

Roxas, of course, speeds up. 

“Hey asshole,” Axel tries again, which  _ does  _ make Roxas stop. “You know, it’s worrying that you respond to that, and not your actual name.”

“I thought it was a term of endearment,” says Roxas. Axel walks in step with him, Princess on the other side whinnying in delight as Roxas, reluctantly, pats her head. 

“From me, definitely,” says Axel, grinning. “Aren’t you a chatterbox today?”

Roxas mimes zipping up his mouth. 

“You won’t last long,” says Axel, with confidence. “You’ll break and tell me to shut up eventually.” 

Roxas’ lips remain sealed. 

“Fine,” says Axel. “You did this to yourself.”

He launches into a story about his first day ever at the camp, when he melted a tent just trying to put it up, how he made  _ two  _ kids cry because he hadn’t quite got the hang of not hissing half of his conversations, and almost got kicked out forever because at the end of a very harrowing day, he told the kids they were annoying and he wished they would all fuck off back to bed. Roxas barely even quirks an eyebrow or anything. Axel runs out of steam eventually.

“I concede,” he says, eventually. “You win.” 

Roxas smirks. He still doesn’t say anything. 

“Oh my God, please say something,” says Axel, breaking under the pressure of silence. “I can’t take this any longer.” 

Roxas does something unthinkable. He breaks his silence with _laughter,_ a coarse sound that’s rough around the edges. Axel stares at him. 

“That’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard,” he says, dreamily. He clings onto Roxas’ arm like a mistress with a particularly weak disposition. 

“You’re so obnoxious,” says Roxas. He doesn’t shrug Axel off, so Axel takes that as a win. 

“I’m sorry, I think you mispronounced charming.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” says Roxas, and then elbows him really hard. 

Axel’s just glad that Roxas is finally growing into a real boy, who uses big words and everything. He’s fun, but there’s only so many non-verbal eyebrow conversations Axel can take. He likes the sound of his own voice, sure, but he likes the sound of Roxas’ voice  _ more.  _

***

Roxas keeps insisting that he doesn’t even like Axel, which is clearly a big fat lie, because it just so  _ happens  _ that they always magically seem to take lunch together,  _ happen  _ to miraculously always crave a cigarette at the exact same time, and eventually always seem to  _ happen  _ to have the same nonsensical sleeping schedule. 

“You’re a big liar,” says Axel, laid flat on his back on the grass at a ridiculous time in the morning. They’ve found a spot near the edge of the campsite, where the grass is soft and squishy and nice, the trees offer the perfect amount of sun and shade, and there are rocks to sit on and eat ice cream. “You do like me.”

“I do not,” says Roxas. “You’re insufferable.” 

“Well, I like you,” says Axel. 

“I know,” says Roxas. “You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

Axel grins, even though Roxas can’t see it. 

“I can’t help that you’re absolutely delightful in every way,” he says. “Maybe you should tone down the - the -  _ Roxas-ness,  _ and I’ll leave you alone.”

“You’re as bad as Princess,” says Roxas. He sighs, making a big show of it. “That cloud looks like an axe-murderer.”

_ It does _ , thinks Axel, squinting up at the silhouette. 

“This is why I like you,” says Axel. “Who else is gonna point out serial-killer clouds in the sky to me?”

“You don’t know it’s a serial killer,” says Roxas. “You could kill only one person with an axe, and technically be an axe-murderer.”

“You’re adorable,” says Axel. 

“I’m going to murder  _ you  _ with an axe in a minute.”

“You are not,” says Axel. “You’d miss me too much.” 

Roxas snorts, then hits him with the back of his hand. He leaves it there because he’s too lazy to move it, and Axel leans down and licks it. 

“Arrrrgh,” says Roxas, snatching it back, looking at it like he’s been burned. “Why is your tongue so  _ hot? _ ” 

“Ooh, flirting,” says Axel. “That’s fun. Are you a map, because I get lost in your sea-blue eyes?”

“You’re the worst creature I’ve ever met,” says Roxas. “Okay, fine. I think you’re pretty cool, all right? It’s not every day a demon wants to share their peanut butter sandwiches with you.” 

“Aha!” says Axel. “I  _ knew  _ you liked peanut butter. You are just like a poorly-trained puppy, aren’t you? Do you have a tail? I bet you have such a cute tail.”

“Axel,” says Roxas. “ _ You  _ have a tail.”

“Yeah, but mine’s all pointy and evil looking,” says Axel. “I don’t exactly scream ‘friendly and wants to be petted’.”

“Wait until you meet my wolf,” says Roxas. “He definitely doesn’t want to be petted.” 

_ Third person,  _ Axel thinks. He’s never met a werewolf who referred to their wolfish tendencies like that before. And he’s met a lot of them. Werewolves are a dime a dozen, but Roxas is different. He’s special. 

“Is that a challenge?”

“Please don’t,” says Roxas. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“Those are fighting words,” says Axel. 

Roxas rolls over to look at him. 

“You’re surprisingly nice, you know,” says Roxas. “For a demon.” 

Axel winces, and knows that Roxas must notice. Roxas isn’t Axel, though, so he doesn’t press it. It makes Axel like him even more. 

“Maybe it’s all a ruse,” says Axel. “Maybe I’ve just used my wily, sinful ways to lure you all here so I can send you downstairs to suffer eternal damnation? I’d get some real brownie points with my old man. The souls of children are particularly delicious. Moloch would approve.” 

“Nah,” says Roxas,  _ smiling,  _ Christ. 

“That’s it? Just ‘nah’?” 

“Yeah,” says Roxas. 

“You should be a poet,” says Axel. “Anyone ever tell you that?” 

For all Roxas lacks in conversational skills, he makes up for in ability to stare into your soul. Axel can feel the back of his neck start to heat up. 

“His thoughts were low, to vice industrious but to nobler deeds, timorous and slothful,” says Roxas, after a teeth-pulling silence.

“Milton?” says Axel, wrinkling his nose as if he’s just smelled something particularly foul. “Really?” 

“Yet he pleased the ear and with persuasive accent thus began,” Roxas smirks. 

“Are you comparing me to Belial?” says Axel. 

“Well,” says Roxas. He has a look on his face that Axel wants to memorise forever. Half amused, half concentrating, biting his lip as if he’s either close to an epiphany or about to burst out laughing. “What’s the quote? Something about Belial being the most lewd spirit to fall from Heaven.” 

“I can’t believe you have the conversational skills of a teaspoon,” says Axel. “And yet you can quote Milton on a whim.” 

“I’ve been trying to go for a mysterious, sexy image,” says Roxas. “The silent but deadly type. Do you think I’m pulling it off?” 

“You’re getting there,” Axel says, and then ruffles Roxas’ hair. Roxas bares his teeth, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Although I’m honestly offended you compared me to Belial. He’s like your creepy drunk Uncle that nobody wants around, but shows up everywhere anyway. Also he really likes torturing virgins, which. You know. Yikes.” 

“Hell sounds like a real party,” says Roxas. 

“It’s actually really boring,” says Axel. “Lots of paperwork involved.” 

“Really?”

“Of course not,” says Axel, and flicks Roxas on the forehead. “Lots of worshipping the Devil, though. And believe me, that guy is a real pain in the ass.” 

“Careful,” says Roxas. “They might hear you and kick you out.” 

Axel stills. 

“Um.”

“It’s not like it’s a secret,” says Roxas. “There’s only one way for a demon to be up here, and that’s to be banished, right?”

“Oh my God,” says Axel. “You were weird serial killer kid, right? Only with demons. That’s why you can quote  _ Paradise Lost.” _

“You were probably the exact opposite,” says Roxas. “Like, weird mortal-loving kid.” 

Axel sits up so fast that he feels sick. His head spins. 

“Hey, why don’t we go see what the others are up to?” says Axel. Roxas follows his movement, standing up and dragging Axel with him by the wrist.  _ Werewolf strength _ , he thinks, and then tries - and fails miserably - to pretend it’s not kinda hot. 

“They’re fast asleep,” says Roxas, but he shrugs and starts heading back to the cabins anyway.

“They probably think we’re up to all sorts of sordid things,” says Axel. “Me, you, the moonlight, ice cream on a summer night...” 

“Yeah, because I love the moonlight,” says Roxas. “So romantic. It’s my favourite thing in the whole world.” 

“You’re a weird little werewolf,” says Axel, and then laughs when Roxas shoots him a glare at the world  _ little.  _ He claps an arm around his shoulders. “What a pair we make, eh?”

“A Hell-hating demon,” says Roxas. Axel nods enthusiastically. 

“Don’t forget the grumpy wolf with a lunar allergy.”

Roxas doesn’t say anything, because he’s Roxas, but it doesn’t bother Axel all that much. Maybe it’s a trick of the moonlight, but Roxas’ eyes look kind of soft around the edges as he watches Axel’s gesticulating hands, rambling all the way back to the cabins. 

***

Watching Roxas toeing the water like he’s afraid of it is the funniest thing to happen to Axel since Sora fell over in front of Kairi five minutes ago and landed face-first in the river. 

“I thought you were a dog,” says Axel. “Dogs love swimming.” 

Roxas growls at him, then seems to realise that growling is proving Axel’s point, because his face does a  _ thing  _ and he snaps his mouth shut. 

“He’s more like a cat,” says Naminé, having decided to take no part in today’s activities, choosing to sit and draw what looks like Kairi, when Axel peers over her shoulder. She shies it away and glares at him. Axel has never seen Naminé look anything other than perfectly serene, and occasionally a little sad when she gets in one of her  _ existential  _ moods, so he pretends he wasn’t looking, even whistling a little to really cement the nonchalant image he’s going for. 

“I am a  _ wolf, _ ” says Roxas, now ankle deep, looking like the water is causing him physical pain. 

Sora is splashing about with Kairi like  _ he’s  _ a mermaid, too, and Axel marvels - not for the first time - at just how different the two of them are. He knows there must be a story there, somewhere, because sometimes Sora looks over at Roxas with a rare little crease between his eyebrows and sometimes Roxas will look back and stick his tongue out. He wonders what they were like as babies. He reckons Sora’s always been a big flirt, batting his enormous toddler eyelashes at people for snacks, while Roxas sat sulking in a corner, possibly making creepy child crayon drawings about the demons who talk to him in his dreams. Proper horror movie stuff. He makes a mental note to ask Sora later. If he catches him in a particularly jubilant mood, he can usually get Sora to tell him  _ anything _ . This is how he found out that Roxas played a shepherd in his school nativity and tried to eat the sheep. 

The kids are splashing about like it’s the best day of their lives. Even  _ Riku  _ has stripped down and is swimming lengths back and forth like it’s no big deal. Roxas is the only one who isn’t having fun, and Axel has just now this second decided to make it his life’s mission to make sure Roxas has a good day. So, naturally, he pushes him in. 

Roger the Weird Fish Boy pushes Roxas upwards, and he gasps for air. His hair is all wet and floppy instead of unruly and spiky, and he would look like a whole different person if it weren’t for that trademark scowl. 

“Fuck you,” Roxas snarls. 

“Language,” says Naminé, without looking up. 

Roxas, oddly, actually shuts up. He never shuts up when  _ Axel  _ admonishes him, and he’s his  _ boss.  _ He feels a stab of something in his gut, a new feeling, and he decides that it’s better not to question these things. 

“You should come in too!” 

“Sora, do you pay attention to anything? Demons can’t go in water. They’ll die,” says Roxas. He gives Axel an appraising look. “Although it is tempting.” 

Axel flips him off. 

“ _ Axel,”  _ admonishes Kairi. “The kids!”

“Pretty sure half of them have already heard Roxas tell me to fuck off like, eight times,” Axel shrugs. Roxas grins, fully clothed and sopping wet and ridiculous, and Axel feels something tight in his chest, which is weird, because there’s nothing there. Axel grins back. “It happened literally three minutes ago.” 

“Variety is the spice of life, you know,” says Riku, sleepily, from the shade of a tree. 

“I like what I like,” says Roxas, and Axel would be able to swear that Roxas’ eyes flitted over to look at him, if  _ his _ eyes flitted over to look at  _ him.  _ Which they didn’t. 

Axel flops down, content to spend the rest of the afternoon keeping one lazy eye on the kids, the other one reserved for Roxas. 

***

Axel has a dream. He doesn’t have dreams often; in fact, he’d never before four years ago. His first one involved a laundry basket, a barbershop quartet of elves, and a reloadable wrist-gun filled with oranges. You don’t forget your first dream, that’s for sure. But dreams have no place in the deep, dark realm of the Underworld. It seems to be an upstairs thing. 

“Hello?” says Axel, in what feels like an echoing cavern in the swirling depths of Hell. His voice reverberates around the walls. 

“Hello,” says a voice back. Axel swallows. “Son.” 

“Er,” says Axel, because he definitely never planned on seeing his father again. He spreads his wings and swoops down to Axel’s level. Axel takes a step back. He’s so, so glad he didn’t get his father’s creepy red eyes, because he imagines it would’ve been a lot harder to stop people from running away screaming when he shook the hands of the parents at camp before they’re sent on their merry way, leaving their children in Axel’s capable-if-a-little-threatening claws. “Good to see you?”

“Would you like some ice cream?” says Abaddon, Destroyer of All Things, Advisor to Beelzebub, Chief of False Gods. 

“Yes please,” says Axel, because it seems like the right thing to say. His father nods, solemnly. He looks a lot like Riku after you tell him it’s going to be a beautiful day. 

“You fool. There’s no ice cream in Hell,” says his father, who now has the face of the Devil himself, contorting and twisted until it resembles the face that followed you around, whatever circle of Hell you found yourself in. Like it was imprinted on the back of your eyelids, always watching you. “You’ve been a very naughty boy.”

“I suppose,” says Axel, trying to move as far back as possible, but his foot catches over an edge and he thinks,  _ oh, fuck, you can’t die in Hell but you  _ can _ fall down the Eternal Pit of Doom and Despair - _

“You don’t belong with the surface dwellers,” the Devil-Father-Man says. He’s wearing a very nice looking suit. His wings flap a little, almost pushing Axel off the edge with the force of air. “I’m going to send you to your room.”

“Right,” says Axel, feeling panic starting to rise in his chest and his throat when Devil-Father-Man’s eyes start straight up fucking glowing, teeth elongating, getting closer and closer and closer and, and -

He falls backwards, and thinks,  _ oh, no, this is forever now,  _ and he feels like he should cry or something, but he doesn’t, resigned to his fate, an icy feeling crawling in through his open mouth, down his throat, settling in his stomach and freezing him from the inside out.  _ Like ice cream,  _ his brain says, and then he wakes up. 

“Jesus Christ,” he says, because it seems fitting. 

He looks upwards, to the upside-down face of Roxas frowning at him. 

“Hello, gorgeous,” he says, and closes his eyes again. 

“Don’t go back to sleep,” says Roxas’ voice. “That seemed like one Hell of a dream.” 

“Yeah,” says Axel, and chokes on a laugh. “Where are we?”

“We were eating ice cream,” says Roxas. “You fell asleep, so I ate yours, too.”

“Charming,” says Axel. He tries to shake the dredges of his dream out of his mind. He has  _ got  _ to stop consuming so much freezing cold sugar. 

***

Axel has taken the habit of stealing Roxas’ cigarettes when he’s not looking. He’s very sneaky, if he does say so himself, what with his snake-like demon powers. 

“Stop stealing from me,” says Roxas, looming behind Axel as much as somebody so short  _ can  _ loom. 

“Arggh,” says Axel. He swivels around to see Roxas, hands on his hips, frowning up at him. “I would never.”

“You’re a demon,” says Roxas. “And yet you’re a terrible liar.” 

“He seemed for dignity composed and high exploit, but all was false and hollow,” says Axel. 

“Now you’re comparing  _ yourself  _ to Belial,” says Roxas, the ghost of a smile echoing somewhere on his face. “How come you can quote  _ Paradise Lost _ ?”

“You think they didn’t make us study that shit in school? It’s a very important and controversial text, if you must know.”

“Wait, you went to school?”

“No,” says Axel, rolling his eyes. He lights one of Roxas’ cigarettes off his finger, takes a drag, and then offers it to Roxas. “I was born knowing Milton verbatim. Of course we go to school, you idiot.”

“What, did you just study best torturing techniques?” 

“Pretty much,” says Axel. “Not that I ever went. Failed all my classes and everything.”

“I was a teenage rebel too,” says Roxas, slowly, through his teeth, like it’s causing him pain. 

“Shocking,” says Axel, and takes the cigarette off Roxas unprompted. “You know, you’re not as much of a mystery as you think you are.”

“Neither are you,” says Roxas. 

“What? I don’t think I’m a mystery. I’m an open book.”

“Come off it,” says Roxas. “You’re all airs and graces, right? You hide behind this ridiculous, obnoxious image. But I see right through you.”

“Is that so?” says Axel, and blows smoke right in his face just to be an asshole. 

“Just because you talk a lot doesn’t mean you’re actually saying anything.”

Axel falters. 

“Big words coming from such a little guy,” says Axel, and then Roxas pushes him. Not enough to make him trip, but enough to make him drop the cigarette in surprise. Roxas picks up and continues smoking, unphased. 

“Don’t worry,” says Roxas. “I come with no purpose to explore or disturb the secrets of your realm.” 

“That’s not even the right quote,” says Axel.

“If the shoe fits,” says Roxas, shrugging. 

“That doesn’t make any sense either,” says Axel. Roxas truly is a perplexing creature. Always keeping Axel on his toes with nonsensical statements and astronomical mood swings. 

“So,” says Roxas, pulling out another cigarette. Axel cups his hands, letting a flame spark obligingly. Roxas grins around the cigarette, looking up at Axel, and Axel thinks,  _ oh, his eyes, though,  _ and then wonders where on Earth  _ that  _ came from. “Which circle of Hell do you reside in?”

“You’re mixing up your literature,” says Axel. “But second.”

Roxas raises his eyebrows. 

“Nope,” says Roxas. “Really, ruled by lust? Maybe try telling a  _ believable  _ lie.”

“Fine,” says Axel. “Dante got it all wrong, anyway. Milton was much closer. Trust me, Socrates isn’t kicking it down in Hell, but you better believe Beelzebub is down there kissing Satan’s ass as we speak.” 

“Did you not like anyone?”

Axel hesitates one, two seconds. 

“I mean, I had friends,” says Axel. “When I was little. But we went down different paths, shall we say.” 

“You don’t miss anyone? Like, at all?”

Axel meets his gaze.

“No,” he says flatly. Roxas, thankfully, leaves the topic alone. 

They smoke in silence, passing the cigarette between them, and usually Axel isn’t the kind of person to be able to keep his mouth shut, but something about Roxas must be rubbing off on him. 

“The mind is its own place, and in itself, can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.”

Roxas puts the cigarette out with his shoe, joining it’s new family of identical cigarette butts where it shall live until it decomposes and becomes one with the Earth again. 

“That’s my favourite quote,” says Axel, after a minute. “I like that one.” 

“Thought you would,” says Roxas, and nudges him with his elbow. “Come on. We have children to attend to.” 

Right. Axel forgot, for a second, that the whole world doesn’t revolve around Roxas. Sometimes, in moments like this - a shared cigarette, recycled words of a grumpy, dead poet, Roxas’ unwaverable attention, just the two of them - well. Sometimes Axel kind of wishes it did. 

*** **  
**

If Roxas is an enigma, then Sora is incomprehensible. 

“Come on, kids,” says Sora, his wide smile palpable in his voice. “Like this.”

Then, he howls. The moon shines in the sky, carrying on its merry way around the Earth’s orbit, as if it doesn’t even hear them. 

“Sora,” says Roxas, looking pained. “Sea-creatures don’t  _ need  _ to howl at the moon.”

“I know,” says Sora, waist-deep in the water, hands behind his head, without a care in the world. “But it’s fun!” 

Roxas groans, and slumps backwards onto the riverbank. Axel is stood observing a few feet away, careful to stay away from the water. 

“Oooooo,” says Roger the Weird Fish Boy. 

“That’s the spirit!” says Sora. “Who else wants to try?”

The banshee raises her hand. Roxas lowers it for her. 

“Michelle,” he says, with a warning tone. “Remember what happens when you make loud noises?” 

“People die,” she says, sadly. Roxas nods affirmatively, and Axel, thinks,  _ aw, they’ve bonded.  _

Sora howls again. Now he’s just showing off. 

“You’re very good at that,” says Kairi, who then tries for it for herself. It’s horribly embarrassing for everybody involved. She clasps her hands over her mouth and looks at Sora imploringly, but he just grabs her face in his hands and says  _ good job!  _ before dunking her head below the water. He’s in a particularly jubilant mood, and Axel hates to admit that it’s rubbing off on everybody here. Except Roxas, of course, because he’s fun-avoidant for literally no reason other than to be a contrarian. It’s also probably something to do with being immune to Sora’s charms, but Axel firmly believes it’s mostly because he’s a miserable git. 

“Ow ow ooooo,” says Naminé. Roxas looks at her in surprise, and she blushes. Hm. 

“That was actually really good,” says Roxas. “Where’d you learn to do that?” 

“Werewolf cousins,” she shrugs. “And innate talent.” 

“Nice,” says Roxas, and leans back on his palms. Axel glares at the back of his head. 

Sora howls again, louder this time, with a playful edge, and kicks water at Roxas. Axel can hear Roxas growling, even from where he’s stood. 

“Come on, Roxas,” Axel drawls. “Don’t let us down.” 

“No,” says Roxas, leaning backwards so he makes eye contact with Axel upside-down. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“...What?” 

Upside-down Roxas frowns at him, but looks like a very frightening smile from this angle. Axel bares his fangs back. 

“I’d like to hear it,” says Naminé, quietly, and elbows Roxas. 

“I’ll howl if Riku does,” says Roxas. 

“I’ll do it if Axel does,” says Riku. He’s much perkier in the evening. 

Axel hisses, as best he can, tongue flapping in the wind. 

“That’s all I can do,” says Axel. “But I can also do this.”

He sets his whole body on fire. There’s a lot of  _ oo  _ and  _ aah,  _ but Axel is only watching Roxas’ vaguely impressed expression. He extinguishes the fire almost as quickly as he spontaneously combusted. 

“Also, ow oooooh.” 

“You didn’t even try,” says Riku, frowning. 

“Howl, howl, howl,” Sora chants at Riku. What’s kind of amazing is that Sora’s inexplicable powers of joy even work on  _ Riku,  _ who sighs, and then howls to the best of his ability. It’s only half-bad. 

“Roxas,” says Axel. “Your turn.” 

Roxas pauses, a moment, then another moment, before he practically  _ roars.  _

“Oh,” says Naminé, shuffling away a little. 

“Yeah,” says Roxas, sounding sheepish. 

“Neat,” says Axel. “Lot of noise, from such a little guy.”

Sora howls again, and he guesses something has broken inside Roxas, because he howls back what seems instinctively, and it makes Axel vaguely uncomfortable that it actually sounds kinda pained. Sora grins, though, all pearly white teeth and his adorable little fangs, and he understands werewolf-y stuff in a more intimate way than Axel does, so he guesses it can’t be all bad. 

Roxas bounds into the lake, apparently moved by something Sora - said? howled? - so Axel takes his place, sitting with his legs crossed next to Naminé. She shows him her drawing; Roxas, in a semi-side profile, mouth closed and looking pensieve. It’s a good drawing. Naminé obviously look a lot of care over it. 

“He’s lovely, when he wants to be,” she says. “Isn’t he?”

And Axel, inexplicably, in that moment,  _ hates  _ her. 

***

“This was a good idea,” says Roxas, biting straight into his ice cream like the animal he is. Axel, delicately, licks his like a normal person. Well, if a normal person had a forked tongue. Which they don’t. 

“You eat ice cream like an insane person,” says Axel, watching the hint of Roxas’ fangs warily as he bites down on his ice cream even more obnoxiously this time. 

It’s hot out, to say it’s past midnight, and they’re sat on top of the hill in their pyjamas. Axel hovered outside of Roxas’ cabin until Roxas finally emerged, bleary eyed, and told him to fuck off. But that led to an argument, which led to a reconciliation, which then led to a kiss-and-make-up, only with ice cream instead of kissing. Not that Axel  _ wants  _ kissing. That would be ridiculous. There would be way too many teeth involved. 

“I am a little bit,” says Roxas. “Insane.”

“No shit,” says Axel. “Yeah, well. Me too.”

Roxas grins, all teeth, and licks the blue sticky mess off his lips. If Axel stares at his mouth, it’s only because his tongue has turned blue and he looks stupid enough to laugh at. 

“You can’t be that bad,” says Roxas. “You did get kicked out of Hell.” 

Axel hits him, almost sending the rest of Roxas’ ice cream flying. He doesn’t feel all that sorry about it. 

“You haven’t like, told anyone, right?”

Roxas shrugs. 

“Not interesting enough to tell.”

Axel hits him again. 

“That’s a lie and you know it,” says Axel. “It was all very scandalous, actually. Big deal.”

“Why?” 

Axel has never, ever, not even once, talked to a single person about this. He feels weird about it, but not as weird as he would have thought. He’s Roxas. It just seems natural that he’d be the first one to tell. 

“Because I’m royalty,” says Axel, sighing, letting his shoulders slump. 

“You are not,” says Roxas, grinning, like it’s a hilarious joke. Maybe it is. Axel gives him a look. “Oh, you’re not kidding?”

“Nope,” says Axel. “I mean, I’m not like, a prince or anything. Just got the good ol’ royal blood. I’m like, eight cousins removed from the prince.”

“Is that - is that a big deal?” 

“Well,  _ I  _ didn’t think so,” says Axel. “But a big enough deal to kick me out.” 

“Hm,” says Roxas. “There’s lots of rumours. If I asked you what you did, would you tell me the truth?”

“Maybe,” says Axel. “You might just have to ask and see what happens.”

Roxas seems to consider this for a moment, humming slightly as he takes another huge bite from his ice cream. Axel’s teeth hurt just watching him. 

“Okay,” says Roxas. “So what happened?”

And then Axel opens his big fat mouth. 

“I know this is hard to believe,” says Axel. “But I was too nice for Hell. I didn’t - well, it’s not very nice down there, all things considered. You know, with the eternal torturing and all that. And they feed you all this crap, about how they deserve it. How we’ve been wronged, condemned to Hell, and this is the human race’s punishment. You know, the kind of bullshit you’d expect them all to say. And there’s a lot of screaming, and begging, and then they wanted me to - to -”

“Hey,” says Roxas, and he touches Axel’s hand. It isn’t until much, much later than Axel realises that’s the first time Roxas has touched him first. “You don’t actually have to talk about it, you know.”

“Yeah,” says Axel. “Yeah. You get the picture, anyway. Little pansy Axel, bringing shame upon the family. I was the white sheep, I suppose.” 

“That’s not a bad thing,” says Roxas. “I’m glad you got kicked out of Hell. You deserve better than eternal suffering.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Obviously,” says Roxas. “Jackass.”

Axel chews on his finished ice cream stick. 

“I wouldn’t get to sit here with you at one in the morning eating ice cream at a summer camp for supernatural children if you were still in Hell,” says Roxas, and Axel thinks that might be as close to a  _ I like you too  _ as he’s ever gonna get. Axel beams at him. “Do you want to hear my dirty little secret?” 

“Sure,” says Axel, and unfurls his legs, leaning back on the grass, palms flat on the ground. Roxas blinks owlishly at him, then clears his throat. 

“Once upon a time,” says Roxas, and Axel nudges him with his elbow, and they  _ are  _ particularly pointy. “Okay, fine. So Sora’s obviously like - well, he’s Sora, you know?” 

“Yeah,” says Axel. “He’s pretty - Sora.”

“Right,” says Roxas. “And I’m me. And that’s you know, caused a lot of problems. As you can imagine.” 

Axel can imagine. He’s seen it first hand. 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve got a bit of an anger problem,” says Roxas. 

“A well-kept secret, I must say,” says Axel. 

“I kind of grew up under Sora’s shadow - I mean, it’s kind of impossible not to, have you  _ met  _ him - and that only made things worse and worse. I got angrier as I got older, and I would get into fights a lot at school, and then it kind of became an actual, real, werewolf-y problem.” 

“Oh,” says Axel. “Oh, no.”

“Yeah,” says Roxas. “I wanna say I was the black sheep, but I kept eating them all.”

“That’s a terrible joke,” says Axel. 

“I didn’t bite anyone or anything,” he says, quickly. “Just would wolf out, you know. I was putting my whole family in danger. So I ran away.” 

“Oh,” says Axel. “How long?”

“Couple months,” says Roxas, shrugging. “Didn’t really help with the whole feral wolf thing.”

“I’ll say,” says Axel, lost for words. “Why’d you come back?” 

“It was lonely,” says Roxas, as if the admission means nothing. 

When they first met, Axel would never have guessed that Roxas was the kind of person who would get lonely, what with his get-the-fuck-away-from-me attitude and all that. He knows better, now - knows  _ Roxas  _ better. Knows him really well, actually, if he does say so himself. He’s glad they’ve had this heart-to-non-existent-heart. Something large and overwhelming threatens to take over his brain, which is connected to his mouth, which is his excuse for saying: 

“I get lonely, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” says Axel. He knocks their knees together. “That’s why I keep coming back here.” 

“That’s why I’m here,” says Roxas. “Since I know it’s been killing you, not asking. I ran away, and got sent here as a kind of punishment. I think it’s just because Sora missed me, though.” 

Roxas finishes his ice cream, and inspects the stick. He brandishes it to Axel, as if Axel has all the answers in the world. 

“That’s a winner stick,” says Axel. “It means you get a free one.”

“Cool,” says Roxas, and puts it in his jacket pocket. “We’ll use it tomorrow?”

“Sure,” says Axel, marvelling at the warm, blooming feeling in his chest and in his stomach and how it doesn’t feel fiery at all; softer, more comforting, in a way that Axel has never felt before. 

***

Axel is wandering through the woods, aimlessly, trying to make sure none of the more unruly children have taken their hide and seek game into any forbidden areas. He knows the fairies are missing, but they’re  _ always  _ missing. They’re just so damned small, it’s really hard to keep track of them. 

He almost trips over a branch, and then that branch turns out to be a leg. 

“Neigh,” says Princess. 

“Hello to you too,” says Axel, tipping his proverbial hat. 

Roxas is asleep, curled up onto Princess with his arms draped over her torso and his head resting on his arms, legs splayed in an awfully uncomfortable looking position. Axel instantly melts into a pile of goo. 

Axel sits down in front of Roxas, cross legged, and pokes him in the face with his tail until Roxas wakes up. 

“Go away,” says Roxas, without opening his eyes. “I came here to get away from you people.”

“I can’t believe Princess finally convinced to you elope,” Axel says. “And I wasn’t invited?”

“You were at least the first to know,” says a groggy Roxas. Then, clearly still half asleep, because what other reason would there be for him to say, “I always thought you’d be the one I ran away into the sunset with.” 

He keeps his eyes closed, and falls back asleep, none the wiser to Axel’s gaping mouth. 

***

“You’re late for school,” says a voice, and Axel sits up straight and rubs his eyelids.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, and definitely not in a bed with clawed feet and sheets as dark as the room itself, the same swirling purple and black as the Hellmouth.  _ His  _ sheets are white and covered in orange, dusty stains from when Roxas crawled into his bed at four o’clock on a particularly sunny afternoon to sulk after he’d had some sort of argument with Sora and ate his weight in Cheetos. He claimed that it was because nobody would look for him there, and Axel didn’t say anything about how he must’ve known that Axel would stumble upon his hiding spot, just crawled into bed with him and let Roxas laugh at him as he flittered his forked tongue out to eat the proffered delicious cheesy snacks like a frog.

“Again, Axel, really?”

“Oh, hello,” says Axel to his mother. She looks as disappointed as ever. “No school today. It’s summer.” 

“There’s no summer in Hell,” she says. She looks as lovely as ever; small horns protruding from her forehead, her forehead lumpy and bumpy in all sorts of ways, piercing green eyes the colour of particularly vibrant vomit, black and mottled claws - her beauty knows no bounds, as Axel likes to remind her of, quite often and quite loudly. “Your essay on who the true hero is in  _ Paradise Lost  _ was due today.”

“Eve,” says Axel, just to watch her hair set aflame. 

“That Roxas boy,” she says, and Axel sits up much straighter. “He’d look good down here, don’t you think?”

“Uh,” says Axel. 

“And Kairi, and Sora, Riku. Naminé the witch could prove very useful. Why don’t you invite them all round for supper?”

“I don’t think they’ll enjoy eyeball broth,” says Axel. 

“We have ice cream,” she says, smiling, with way, way too many teeth. “Sea salt flavour.” 

She offers the ice cream to him, and Axel takes the stick, unthinkingly, instinctively, a  _ thanks, Roxas,  _ forming somewhere in his throat, but when he touches it -

“That’s adorable,” Axel hears Riku say, vaguely, from behind his eyelids. It’s a very strange thing for Riku to say. “Kairi is going to love this.” 

Axel stirs a little, and tries to stretch but finds that there’s a dead weight on top of him, limiting his movements. Whatever it is, it’s very heavy and very cold and very nice. It stops him from opening his eyelids for a moment, two moments. 

“Do you think he even knows?”

“Probably not,” says Naminé’s dreamy voice. “But Roxas isn’t much better. Every time I try to talk to him about it, he snaps at me and runs away.” 

“Yeah,” says Sora. “He’s good at that.”

_ Well, that’s not very nice,  _ thinks Axel’s brain.

“Hnnnnng,” says Roxas’ voice, somewhere near his shoulder blades. The others shut up, instantly, and the silence is deadly. “Hm?” 

He feels Roxas’ head roll off his shoulder, his arm disappear from his chest, hand pressing down so Axel squawks awake, flailing only a  _ little.  _

“What happened?”

“You fell asleep,” says Riku. “Obviously.” 

“No shit,” says Roxas, and yawns. He seems completely unperturbed that they just  _ cuddled,  _ in front of  _ everyone.  _ Axel is so, so embarrassed. He doesn’t quite understand why, but he also doesn’t quite understand why Roxas isn’t. It’s no big deal. Right? So they’re close. Close enough to spoon, apparently. Axel should be overcome with joy, what with the whole stalking-Roxas-until-he-loves-me thing, but instead he just feels vaguely nauseous. It was probably his dream. It was almost definitely his dream, because out of Roxas and his mother, one of them is the obvious cause of queasiness. 

“Your bedhead is truly a thing to behold,” says Axel, poking where it’s bent at a weird angle. Roxas doesn’t even swat him away, leaving Axel’s hand just kind of -  _ there,  _ lingering awkwardly. 

He catches Naminé’s eye, and he doesn’t know what the look she’s giving him means, but he knows he doesn’t like it. All eyebrows. He raises his back, as a challenge.  _ What are you going to do about it,  _ his eyebrows say. After all, as his mother would tell them, if she  _ had  _ invited them all to the pits of Hell for her underworld-famous eyeball broth - he’s an only child, and he’s never been good at sharing. 

***

“So,” says Axel, sliding into the space next to Roxas on the picnic bench almost the instant Naminé leaves. Roxas looks up at him around a mouthful of corned beef and raises his eyebrows. “You look dashing today.”

“What do you want?” says Roxas, with his mouth open, because he knows how much it grosses Axel out. 

“Surely I can be nice to my loveliest friend,” says Axel. He grins, as Roxas scowls. This is a hilariously common occurrence. “Okay, I want to know the gossip.” 

“What are you talking to me for?” says Roxas. “Go bother Kairi. You know I don’t care about any of that stuff.” 

“No,  _ your  _ gossip,” says Axel. “Idiot.”

“Me?” says Roxas, swallowing audibly. “What did I do? That didn’t involve you somehow, anyway.” 

“You and Naminé, of course,” says Axel. “You’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

“Uh-huh,” is all Roxas says. Axel feels -  _ something,  _ in his gut, which drove him over here and opened his mouth for him in the first place. He’s his best friend, right? He should be more forthcoming with the juicy details of his love life. 

“Maybe Princess can stop following you around soon,” says Axel, and Roxas starts to choke. 

“No,” is all he says, and finishes off his sandwich with a flourish. “Just - stop talking.”

“Aha!” says Axel. “So there  _ is  _ something going on with you two.”

“Why?” says Roxas, balling up a napkin in the most threatening way Axel has ever seen a napkin be balled. “Would that bother you?” 

Axel considers this. He decides to lie. 

“Of course not,” he says, adding in a quick scoff for authenticity.

“Right,” says Roxas. “So that’s why you’ve been glaring at her for the past week.”

“I didn’t know you guys were, you  _ know, _ ” says Axel. “And as your self-appointed best friend, I am frankly shocked and hurt that I had to find out through careful observation and eavesdropping.”  

Roxas growls. It’s not very intimidating, no matter how much Roxas likes to pretend it is. 

“Am I not allowed to have other friends, is that it?”

“Of course you are,” says Axel. 

“Then stop being cold to her for no reason. You’re starting to hurt her feelings.” 

“Oh, so you’ve been having little heart-to-hearts now? Been having secret-swapping slumber parties?” 

Roxas snarls at him, shoving his tray away. Axel flinches. 

“No, they’ve been mostly reserved for undeserving assholes,” says Roxas. 

“Wait, are you actually mad at me?”

“Of course I am,” says Roxas, moving to stand up, hands clenched into fists. “And I bet you don’t even know why.”

“Absolutely lost,” says Axel, staring up at him. “I just wanted to know what was going on with you lately.”

Roxas opens his mouth, then closes it again. 

“You act like you know everything,” he says, eventually, looking way too intensely into Axel’s eyes. Axel swallows. “But you’re a fucking idiot.”

And then he storms off, leaving an absolutely baffled Axel in his wake. 

Well. That went well. 

***

It starts to rain. 

“Ow ow ow ow fuck,” says Axel, eloquently. He tries to run, but that makes it hurt  _ more.  _ He should have expected this, but it hasn’t rained for weeks and he could swear there wasn’t a cloud in the sky an hour ago. Tiny pinpricks of pain cover his entire body. “Fuck, ow, oh my God.” 

Luckily, his knight in shining armour turns up, shaped suspiciously like Roxas holding Riku’s duck umbrella. 

“Hey,” says Roxas, holding the umbrella over his head as Axel hisses in both relief and pain. “Thought you might need this.”

Axel doesn’t say anything, just presses his thumbs to his eyes and tries to wait until the dancing white blobs behind his eyelids have disappeared, breathing heavily. His skin hurts so much, boiling and bubbling a little.

“Came out of nowhere,” says Roxas, conversationally, as if Axel hasn’t just been in imminent danger of boiling to death. 

“Ow,” says Axel. Roxas rubs his back, and Axel thinks,  _ oh, that’s nice,  _ and he focuses on that instead of how his skin literally just started melting. “How’d you know to come find me?”

Roxas looks at him like he’s an idiot. 

“You’re a terrible stalker if you don’t know I’ve been stalking you back,” says Roxas. 

“Okay, that’s fair,” says Axel, as if they’ve actually talked about their codependency, as if Roxas didn’t just make his brain explode with a million questions with one little comment. 

“Are you okay?”

“Are you concerned about me?” says Axel. 

“No,” says Roxas. “I only hang around you all the time because I hate you.” 

“You’re my favourite quadruped,” Axel tells him, as seriously as possible. “And an actual life saver.” 

Roxas sighs. 

“I’m supposed to be mad at you,” says Roxas. “And I’d really appreciate it if you can avoid dying, so I can continue to be mad at you.” 

“Duly noted,” says Axel, making a weak two-finger salute. “Why are you mad at me, again?”

“Doesn’t matter,” says Roxas, shrugging. “I’m not mad at you anymore. Your imminent death was a bit of an eye-opener.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” says Roxas. He grabs Axel’s arm with his spare hand, and inspects it, turning it over and over again. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m touched,” says Axel, and he’s sure if he had a heart he’d feel it beating against his ribs. “Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. Stop fretting.” 

He doesn’t stop fretting, is the thing. It’s unnerving. Roxas hovers around him all day, and it’s not like Axel is complaining, per say, but he’s clearly not the only one perturbed by this. 

“What’s gotten into him?” Sora asks him out of the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t know,” says Axel, even though he kind of has an inkling that he maybe sorta does. 

***

Axel thinks he might have, finally, completely lost the plot and entered into a realm of unbridled hallucinations. 

“Is Roxas playing with Elmereth? Of his own free will?” 

“Sure looks like it,” says an equally baffled Sora. 

“Huh,” says Axel, and watches Roxas and the centaur, not even bothering to pretend he’s not staring at him. “That’s new.” 

***

Axel’s fire abilities don’t often come in handy. They’re actually pretty pointless, all things considered. Roxas got bored of Axel being able to light his cigarette with his fingertip after only like, the third time, and other than that he’s mostly just a fiery liability. He’s pretty good at controlling them now, but there was a good few months after coming upstairs of accidentally making burned, grassy indents wherever he sat outside and  _ one  _ little forest fire before he managed to get the hang of it. 

However, there is one upside. Every year, he gets everybody to sit around and make s’mores off his literally flaming body. He mostly uses his tail, because it’s both the most convenient and most impressive, but he lets the littlest ones make them in his cupped hands, so he can keep an eye on them. 

“You’re so cool,” says Sora, with marshmallow all around his mouth. 

“Don’t say that,” says Roxas. “It’ll go to his head.” 

“Too late,” says Axel, preening. “Are you impressed?”

“A little,” says Roxas, and he smiles with  _ all  _ of his teeth, fangs and all. “Don’t look at me like that, you wouldn’t do it if you didn’t know it was cool.”

“I’m just glad my evil powers can be used in the name of good and marshmallows,” says Axel. 

“You’re the least evil demon I’ve ever met,” says Sora. Roxas nods along with him, and then they elbow each other for no apparent reason. Brothers are weird. 

“Have you met any other demons?” says Riku. 

“Well,  _ no, _ ” says Sora. “But I have met Roxas, and he’s pretty close.”

Roxas elbows him again, harder this time. Sora falls off the log, sputtering, and both Roxas and Axel positively cackle. 

“I wish you guys had never met,” Sora says, pulling himself up and glaring. It’s like watching a kitten try to be intimidating. 

“Me too,” says Roxas, and sighs. Axel throws an arm around his shoulders. “Agh! Axel, fire! Ow!”

Axel removes his arm, sheepishly, and pats down the singing fabric. 

“Sorry,” he says. “Sometimes I get a little overexcited.” 

Roxas grins at him again, and it suddenly occurs to Axel that he might actually be happy. Axel smiles back, and it’s accidentally a little more genuine than he intended. 

“Are you guys having a moment?” says Riku. 

“Gross,” says Sora, wrinkling his nose. Roxas looks like he wants to shove Sora off the log again. 

“Eat your s’mores,” says Axel. 

A couple more kids come up, and Axel could  _ swear  _ they’ve already passed their strict limit of two per head, but he’s finding it really hard to care when Roxas is practically vibrating next to him with an energy Axel has never seen from him. From Sora’s expression, he’s guessing that Roxas might not have been happy for a long time. It makes Axel’s non-existent heart ache. 

He knocks their knees together, and offers Roxas a marshmallow from the point of his tail. Roxas takes it happily, shoving the whole thing into his mouth at once. 

“Stop smiling,” says Naminé, looking up from her sketchbook. “I’m trying to draw you, and to be perfectly honest it’s a little frightening.” 

Roxas pulls a face at her, then continues eating his marshmallow in peace. 

“I think I’m having a heart attack,” says Axel. “I do declare, is Roxas in a good mood?”

“Hard to tell,” says Sora, crinkling his whole face up. “Haven’t got a lot to compare it to.”

“You’re a jerk,” says Roxas, to Sora, then turns to Axel. “Also, you don’t even have a heart, so forgive me for ignoring your death in favour of making more s’mores off you.” 

“I knew you were just using me for my body,” says Axel, sighing deeply. Naminé laughs, in that dainty little way that she does. Sora looks like he hasn’t been paying attention for the past two minutes, staring at Kairi dreamily in the distance, whereas Riku just narrows his eyes at him. Roxas, on the other hand, grins like the demon Axel secretly thinks he might be. 

Princess decides she wants to join in the fun, unfurling her legs and trotting over, standing expectantly in front of Roxas. Roxas matches her gaze, before seemingly giving in. 

“Marshmallow?” he offers her. If she could talk, she’d probably smile and say,  _ yes please, Roxas, you are the love of my life and I don’t care that it’ll make my mouth all gooey because this gift is from you, my sweet sweet angel of death,  _ but instead she just neighs and almost bites his fingers off. 

Roxas is sitting alarmingly close to him, reaching over him like he’s not even there, ending up practically in his lap as he tries to reach over and poke Naminé in the shoulder so he can see her drawing. Axel finds quite suddenly he’s forgotten how to breathe. He wonders when the no-touching-Roxas rule was lifted, and he can’t quite remember, each hazy day blending together into one, big, overwhelming memory of moments with Roxas, both quiet and loud, both tactile and not, both grumpy and now, miraculously, happy. 

“You really are in a good mood,” he marvels. 

“Mankind in the happy garden placed, reaping immortal fruits of joy and love,” says Roxas, happily, the marshmallow in between his teeth making the words sticky and incomprehensible. 

“Are you comparing Leechlake Forest Camp for the Naturally Unnatural and Supernaturally Gifted to the Garden of Eden?”

“Yes,” says Roxas, and pokes him in the shoulder. “Don’t you agree? 

Axel grins at him. 

“These s’mores represent the forbidden fruit,” says Axel. “And I’m the wily demon offering eternal sin.”

“More fun that way,” says Roxas. Axel has forgotten that a whole world outside of Roxas exists in the moment, because when he comes to and the blurry edges of his friends come back into focus, he finds three sets of wide eyes staring at them both. Roxas doesn’t seem to notice, turning his back on them all in favour of admonishing Princess for eating his s’more right out of his hands when he wasn’t looking. Axel, however, feels his cheeks heat up against his own will, burning what must be a fiery red.

He’s not an idiot. He  _ knows  _ what they’re thinking, but they’re all equally stupid and wrong. That’s not what this is. What  _ this  _ is, is two best friends playfully flirting over marshmallows and poetry because it’s funny. Because that’s just what they do _.  _ It doesn’t mean anything, and they’re all deluded and bored and desperate for drama if they think that they have any kind of, of,  _ feelings,  _ or whatever, that extend beyond the parameters of best-friends-forever. 

...Right?

***

They’re eating ice cream again. It’s become an almost-daily thing. 

“A summer’s day; and with the setting sun dropped from the zenith like a falling star.”

Axel turns to look at Roxas, wishing he could remember the rest of the quote but failing miserably because the pink hue of Roxas’ eyes, reflected from the setting sunlight, is very pretty and very distracting. 

“You know,” says Roxas. “I’m going to tell you something, and if you ever repeat a word to anybody, I will kill you while you sleep.”

They’re sat very close - unnecessarily close - legs and arms pressed together. 

“This is the happiest I’ve been in a really long time,” says Roxas. “You know, with the ice cream, and actually having friends and stuff.” 

Axel doesn’t say anything, because he knows that if he opens his mouth Roxas is going to spook and he doesn’t want to break the moment. He feels something swell inside of him like a balloon. 

“What I’m trying to say,” Roxas continues. “Is that I’m really glad I came to Leechlake Forest Camp for the Naturally Unnatural and Supernaturally Gifted.” 

Then, Roxas does something strange, even for him _.  _ He places his hand on Axel’s knee, like that’s totally normal, like that’s a thing they do all the time. Like it’s no big deal. Axel stares at it and forgets how to breathe. It’s only a hand. A hand shouldn’t be doing -  _ things _ to his insides. 

“I’m really glad you came to Leechlake, too,” says Axel. “I’m really glad I met you.”

“Yeah,” says Roxas, and he turns to look at Axel, and he doesn’t even look a little bit angry or irritated or like he’s about to bite his hand off, like, at all. “That too.” 

Axel looks away first. He instantly regrets it, but the moment felt too heavy and too real and Axel isn’t used to that, always hovering somewhere above seriousness. He lets Roxas squish his cheek on his shoulder as they wait for the darkness of the evening to envelop them, and thinks,  _ oh no.  _

What has he gotten himself into? 

***

The shit doesn’t really hit the fan until the next full moon. 

Axel’s no stranger to werewolves on the Dreaded Day of the Month, and they’ve never really caused him that much bother. Sometimes the kids are a bit of a handful, sure, but they almost always have a helping paw or two from the counsellors to wrangle the little ones into bed. For all of Axel’s big talk, he’s never actually seen a full wolf, and definitely not an  _ angry  _ one. 

“Um,” says Axel. Roxas’ fur is the same sandy colour of his hair, and his eyes are still that eerie blue, but his fangs are a lot bigger than usual and you know what, that scowl actually looks a lot more attractive on Roxas’  _ human  _ face. Roxas snarls at him, lower body on the ground, wiggling about like he’s about to pounce. “Sora was acting more like an oversized puppy. Maybe you should try that?” 

Roxas doesn’t listen. He guesses that wolfy ears don’t understand English. 

It takes Axel a little bit too long to cry for help, and he’s backed himself up into a corner, dragging his ass along until he’s pressed firmly up against the wall and there’s nowhere to go. Axel is feeling a whole new feeling, one that he hasn’t felt since he came upstairs, and it takes him a moment to realise that feeling has a name and it’s called fear. 

“Roxas,” says Axel, trying to stay calm. “You don’t want to do this.” 

Roxas snarls again, like he’s saying,  _ no, I really do.  _ Axel swallows. 

“At least try to avoid the face,” says Axel, then instantly regrets that they might be his last words. He’d rather something more poignant, or at least sexier and more badass. 

He can feel sparks start to fly from his hands and he thinks,  _ oh, no.  _ This is not the time for Axel to have one of his long-forgotten fiery meltdowns. He really doesn’t feel like burning Roxas to death. He’s in a camp full of  _ children,  _ and he’s not sure if burned-out werewolf carcass is better or worse than mauled-to-death demon. Not that he’s entirely sure if he  _ can  _ die. Downstairs, he definitely can’t, but he got kicked upwards and it’s not like anybody made a rulebook or anything. It’s not like many demons who’ve been banished make it all that far, and when they do, they usually hide in shame, become hermits, and are never seen again. Axel is sorely regretting not following in their footsteps. At least  _ they  _ aren’t going to get mauled by an emotionally constipated werewolf. 

Roxas does pounce, and Axel absolutely does not scream - more of a dignified yelp, if anybody asks - and is surprised to find that he’s not instantly suffering teeth digging into his soft, squishy, probably delicious flesh. He finds himself nose-to-doggy-nose with Roxas, claws sinking through his t-shirt and pin-pricking his shoulders, and then Roxas growls again and  _ rolls them over, oh my God,  _ and then Roxas snaps his jaw at him one, two, three times, and Axel metaphorically shits his pants. 

Roxas uses the claws dug into Axel’s skin to lift him up, and then slam him back down onto the floor. Axel tries to say  _ ouch, asshole,  _ but it comes out more of a gurgle. For all of Roxas’ adorably misplaced anger, he’s never been anywhere close to afraid of the guy. Not even a little intimidated, but right now, he’s downright terrified. 

He  _ wants  _ to take his hands and grab Roxas around the neck and burn him, startle Roxas into jumping back or even running away, tail between his legs, to lick his wounds. But something inside of him just  _ can’t,  _ and Axel curses his stupidly nice disposition and allows Roxas to wolf-handle him until Axel feels like he’s about to pass out. 

“Grr,” says Roxas. 

“Oh my God,” says Axel, and then his head bashes back against the wall. After that, he doesn’t say anything at all. 

Roxas noses the curve of his neck, teeth grazing his shoulder, and then scents his way down to the squishiest part of Axel’s torso, and bites down. 

Now, Axel does scream, because  _ jesus fuck ow ow oh my god ow,  _ and Roxas pulls back with a muzzle covered with what would be Axel’s blood, if he had any, and maybe it was just a trick of the light, but he could swear that Roxas  _ grins.  _

Roxas licks over the wound, and Axel feels a lot like he’s about to cry for the first time in four years. 

Axel is, miraculously if not way too late, saved by another growl, from somewhere around five feet to the left, and then the weight of Roxas above him suddenly disappears and Axel is left feeling light and in pain and incredibly cold. He hasn’t felt cold, like,  _ ever.  _

He watches Sora tackle Roxas and snap his jaw at him with a detached interest. He forgot, for a while there, that Roxas is a dangerous creature, and now he’s paid the price -  _ again -  _ for getting too attached to pesky little surface-dwellers. 

He closes his eyes and focuses on the sounds of snarling, trying to drag himself as far away as possible without drawing any attention to himself. He hears Roxas’ pained howl, thinks,  _ I hope that hurts as much as this does,  _ presses his hand to his wound, and then promptly passes out. 

***

Axel wouldn’t know if Roxas is avoiding him, because Axel avoids him first. 

If you’d asked him, on day one, if he thought that maybe he wouldn’t spend every waking moment of the summer trying to get Roxas’ attention, he would have probably scoffed, raised an eyebrow, and said  _ is that a challenge?  _ And then he would’ve been Hell-bent on annoying Roxas for the next two months. But circumstances change, and even Axel’s feelings can be hurt. 

He puts Riku in charge, because at least Riku is  _ emotionally sensible _ , and doesn’t only think with his teeth _ ,  _ and then sulks in his room for three days. Sora comes in every now and then to change his bandages, with the widest, most apologetic eyes Axel has ever seen. It irritates him to no end; Sora possibly saved his  _ life,  _ and he doesn’t need his fucking pity. 

He eventually drags himself out of bed, because even demons need a bit of sunlight, and flops himself down on the riverbank and looks as morose as possible before Kairi’s head pops up above water. 

“Oh, Axel,” she says. “I heard what happened.” 

“Who hasn’t,” says Axel. 

“You okay?” she says. “I mean, obviously not, but like, physically?”

“Yeah, yeah,” says Axel, waving his hand. “It doesn’t really hurt that much. My pride, however.”

“I don’t think it’s  _ your _ pride you need to be worried about,” says Kairi. “Are you gonna fire him?”

Axel hadn’t even thought about that. The thought makes him feel nauseous. 

“No,” he says, eventually, after some thought. “It would be weird without him around, now. We’re a team. Even if he is the worst creature I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet in my life.” 

“You don’t mean that,” says Kairi, frowning. It doesn’t suit her. 

“Imagine if Sora hunted you down and bit you,” Axel says. 

“Don’t you think it’s funny,” says Kairi, carefully. “That you compare you and Roxas to me and Sora?”

Axel frowns. 

“What? What does that mean?” 

“Nothing,” says Kairi, sighing. She leans on the riverbank with her elbows and looks up at him. He pulls a face at her, but she doesn’t pull one back. “Don’t worry about it.” 

Axel lays down on his stomach and watches Kairi do some pretty impressive tricks, teaching the little guppies how to do all sorts of flips and dives. What did she mean, like her and Sora? It’s  _ nothing  _ like her and Sora. Her and Sora are all rainbows and butterflies and warm summer nights and shirtless making out sessions in the lake. He doesn’t think about how he and Roxas are all ice cream and sunsets. In fact, he doesn’t think about Roxas at all. 

(This is, of course, a lie. He does nothing but.) 

***

It takes another two days of uncomfortable, averted eye contact and looking-at-each-other-when-the-other-isn’t before before Roxas finally drags himself out of his pity party to talk to Axel. 

“Um,” he says. 

“That’s a very eloquent apology,” says Axel, trying to pretend he’s cool and calm but the last thing Roxas said to him was snarling after he  _ bit him.  _

“I fucked up,” says Roxas. “Like, a lot.” 

“No kidding,” says Axel. 

“I just wanted to, um. Sora wouldn’t tell me anything, and I just need to know if you’re okay?”

“Why do you care,” says Axel, way too much of the hurt he feels bleeding into his voice. 

“I don’t really fancy being an alpha,” says Roxas. “And you’re not really a beta type.” 

Oh. So  _ that’s  _ all Roxas cares about?

“Fuck you,” he says, as mildly as possible. “I’m a demon. Can’t be turned.”

“Okay,” says Roxas, slowly. “That’s - that’s good.” 

It’s so awkward - so,  _ so  _ awkward - and for the first time since summer started, Axel doesn’t know what to say. 

“Listen -” they both say at the same time. Roxas’ mouth curls upwards slightly at one corner, and Axel’s,  _ godamnit,  _ mirrors the movement. 

“You’re a fucking jerk,” Axel’s mouth opens by itself and says. “What was that even all about, anyway? Did I piss you off or something? Because you can talk to me with  _ words,  _ you know, when you’re humanoid and aren’t drooling into my screaming mouth, and you definitely didn’t have to fucking bite me.”

Roxas, because he is the single most infuriating person on Earth, doesn’t say anything. 

“You got your point across,” says Axel. “I’ll leave you alone, alright? No more bothering Roxas for fun, no more stealing half your food, no more sneaking cigarettes off you while you aren’t looking. Okay? Would that make you happy? Because I don’t know what you fucking want from me.” 

“That’s not - I mean, it was partly because of that, but that’s not  _ why - _ ” 

“Then what was it, Roxas? Because I’ve just spent the better part of a week licking my _very sore_ werewolf wound and trying to figure out exactly what I did wrong.” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” says Roxas. Axel can feel his hands starting to heat up. 

“Sure looks that way,” says Axel. “What, did you bite me just for fun?”

Roxas doesn’t say anything. Axel lets his mouth fall open. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? You  _ did  _ bite me for fun?”

“You don’t understand,” says Roxas. “You’re not a werewolf.”

Roxas does something very interesting with his hands, kind of flailing a little, and he sort of bounces from one foot to another. Axel stares at him, coolly, trying not to fidget back, trying to remain in control of this conversation because he has about a million things he wants to yell at Roxas that he’s been practicing over and over in his head and he doesn’t really want Roxas to know any of them. But then, he growls, low in his throat, and -- 

Roxas grabs Axel’s face in both his hands, and kisses him. 

“Mmmfph,” says Axel, trying to shove him off, but Roxas keeps his head in a vice-like grip -  _ fucking werewolf strength,  _ he thinks - and continues attacking his mouth. When he finally lets go, Axel  _ hisses  _ at him. 

“What was that?” says Axel, astounded. 

“A kiss,” says Roxas. “Obviously. What, have you never done it before?” 

Axel stares at him, sparks dancing on his fingertips. He can’t remember the last time he was this angry, and thinks it might have been around the time he got kicked out of his parent’s basement and thrown into the upper world to fend for himself. 

“I don’t need your pity,” says Axel. “That was a really shitty thing to do.” 

Roxas opens his mouth, closes it, and snarls, with his teeth bared and everything. He throws his hands up and turns to walk away. 

“Yeah,” yells Axel. “That’s right. Do what you do best. Run away.” 

He knows he’s probably gone too far, with that jibe, but he doesn’t really give a shit at the moment because Roxas just gave him a pity-kiss and Axel has never felt worse about himself. He’s not the kind of guy to let others  _ get  _ to him like this, but Roxas is Roxas and now he feels awful, burning up from the inside out. 

***

Sora corners him around the back of one of the cabins after lights out. He grabs a fistful of Axel’s shirt, and bashes him against the wall. Axel is completely taken off guard. This is Sora we’re talking about, and he actually looks  _ mean.  _

“You’re an idiot,” says Sora. “Like, a monumental idiot.” 

“I think you’ll find you should be talking to your brother,” says Axel, because who else could they be talking about? 

“I already did,” says Sora, and he  _ growls.  _ Holy shit. “He’s absolutely miserable.”

“What else is new?” says Axel. 

Sora is so much shorter than him, and quite possibly the least intimidating person he’s ever met, but there’s something in his eyes that makes Axel swallow around a lump in his throat. 

“Like, extra miserable,” says Sora. “You guys need to sort your shit out.”

“I think you might be having memory problems,” says Axel. “Because your brother wolfed out, attacked me, and then  _ bit me. _ ” 

“An idiot!” Sora declares, letting him go and holding his hands up. “A true idiot.”

“Am I missing something?” says Axel. “Because from where I’m standing, Roxas doesn’t really give a shit about me. Like, doesn’t care if I live or die not give a shit.”

“Oh my God,” says Sora. “He wouldn’t be hanging out looking like he’s about to throw himself into the lake at any second if he didn’t give a shit.”

“Oh,” says Axel. 

“Yeah,” says Sora. 

“But then why did he bite me?”

“You’re the self-proclaimed supernatural expert,” says Sora. “You figure it out.” 

He walks away without another word, leaving a very confused Axel in his wake. 

***

Life goes on. 

It’s not like they’re not  _ not  _ talking. They’re just - not talking. Axel has a winner stick that’s burning a hole in his pocket. He found it the other day as he sadly ate ice cream to himself and tried not to think about the words  _ desperate  _ and  _ pining  _ but then the stupid stick turned up like it was rubbing the whole stupid situation in his stupid face. 

Still, they’re at least being civil. They kind of have to be. The kids know something’s up, not because they’re particularly perceptive but because Axel and Roxas were Axel-and-Roxas but now they’re just - not that. Separate identities again, only Axel can’t quite remember who he was before. Maggie and Maisy are bothering him about it  _ constantly,  _ and their tiny, tinny voices are starting to hurt his inner ear. 

They can be in the same location as each other - even in the same  _ confined space,  _ although there is a lot more glaring and you could probably cut the tension with a blunt claw - and that counts for something, only it kind of makes everything worse, because he keeps turning to nudge his elbow, or grin at him for telling a particularly depressing joke, or to quote stupid poetry. But he can’t do that now. Now, he looks at Roxas, and he has a set of teeth marks in his stomach that twinge. 

Axel comes back from baseball to find a small, folded over note on his pillow. He doesn’t recognise the handwriting, but he knows exactly who it’s from before he even opens it.

_ For only in destroying I find ease,  _ the note declares. 

Axel screws it up, throws it onto the floor, lays down in his bed and tries to smother himself with his pillow. 

“I hate that fucking book,” Axel tells the inside of his eyelids. Predictably, they don’t respond. 

***

Kairi comes up with an idea for a picnic, and it’s kind of the perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon. 

The kids are all jumbled up together; Elphermet nudging at Roxas’ arm until he passes her the tiny sandwiches, Roger the Weird Fish Boy in an animated conversation with Maggie and Maisy, Michelle using Naminé's crayons. Naminé is the real hero of the day, drawing any and all cocktail sausages and slices of cake they need. She draws balloons, and tiny paper crowns, colour-coordinating them according to outfit. It’s kind of definitely the best day of camp so far, only Axel is finding hard to enjoy it all. He looks at Roxas, and suddenly finds he’s lost his appetite. 

It’s just - there’s  _ something,  _ there, intangible and confusing and addictive. Something almost palpable between them, like you could reach out and touch it, if only you knew what it looked like. He can’t help himself, and he doesn’t think Roxas can either. They always still end up stood next to each other, accidentally touching, locking eyes by accident, and every tiny little movement feels intense and heavy and meaningful. Axel  _ hates  _ it. He wants things to go back to the way they were before. He’s not even that mad anymore, but it’s the  _ principle  _ of the thing. 

He reaches over to grab some fruit and his hand accidentally touches Roxas’ reaching over, too, and Roxas pulls his hand back so quickly that Axel is momentarily stunned, before he realises that he literally  _ shocked  _ Roxas, because there’s a spot on his hand that burns a bright, fiery red where they just touched. 

Roxas looks at him, his eyes dark and lowered, and Axel looks back. Roxas is cradling his hand, but he doesn’t look away. Axel swallows. 

Sora - beautiful, blessed,  _ bullheaded  _ Sora - manages to almost get a faceful of daintily detailed cupcakes, tripping over his stupid big feet, and breaks the moment. 

But it doesn’t end there. They keep accidentally making eye contact all day, and the next day, and the days after that, too. Axel always burns the brightest where they accidentally brush against each other. He watches Roxas constantly. He always has, and he probably always will. At least until summer's over, anyway.

***

This is the best idea Axel has ever had. He’s sure of it. 

They’ve had to do it down by the riverbank, so Kairi can join in, which means that they can’t really get far away enough but Axel has never really cared all that much about health and safety, and anyway the kids were put to bed hours ago,  _ and  _ Naminé enchanted the locks. If they all die, at least they’re all legal adults and Axel doesn’t have to worry about getting arrested for endangering minors with homemade fireworks. 

“This is  _ awesome, _ ” says Sora, the moonlight glinting almost menacingly in his eyes. He’s too enthusiastic for his own good, so Axel takes his ardour with a pinch of salt. But then Riku nods solemnly next to him, and even the scowl on Roxas’ face has lessened, ever so slightly - you’d only know if you were looking, which Axel has absolutely  _ not  _ been - so Axel thinks maybe he really has actually come up with some genuinely wholesome fun. 

“I love fireworks,” says Naminé, in that dreamy voice of hers. “So pretty.” 

“The show hasn’t even started yet,” says Axel, grinning devilishly. He accidentally catches Roxas’ eye. Roxas looks away first. 

“I’ve never seen any,” says Kairi. Then, without warning, she does a flip. Sora’s eyes  _ shine.  _ “I’m excited!” 

“Alright, alright,” says Axel. “Everybody in their places.” 

He waits until they’ve all backed up an appropriate distance, and clicks his fingers. He didn’t really need to do that, but he wanted to add a little  _ flair,  _ and lights the fireworks with his fingertips. 

He runs away as fast as he can. Even though he’s not entirely sure it’s  _ possible  _ for him to burn, he doesn’t want to lose an eye or anything. He’s too pretty for that. He trips a little up the bank, but Roxas catches him before he falls. They look at each other for a moment too long, and Axel only realises it’s been too long because he notices the flash of reds and greens in Roxas’ eyes before he hears the tell-tale  _ bang!  _

Roxas grabs him by the shoulders and spins him around, and Axel kind of expects a smirk or something but it never comes. He wishes he felt more uncomfortable stood next to Roxas, wishes he’d stood on the complete other side of so he was as far away from him as possible so he doesn’t have to deal with the fact that he doesn’t feel awkward at all. Not even a little bit, if anything, it feels  _ nice _ , because he’s  _ missed him,  _ Good God, and -- 

“Stop thinking,” says Roxas, quietly, next to him. “Just watch the damned fireworks. They were your idea.” 

They were, Axel thinks, watching the flashing lights and how they reflect on the water and he never even knew, when he looks over at their happy faces changing colours, that he could  _ be  _ this happy. He’s elated. He’s overcome with joy, because he  _ did this,  _ for all of them, and he’s never been more glad that he got kicked out of Hell for being too nice. Because nice is awesome, as it turns out. He kind of wants to go back down to Hell and give them a piece of his mind, because they were wrong and Axel was right and all its taken is a whole summer with a bunch of issue-riddled lunatics, a werewolf bite, a crap ton of ice cream and some fireworks to make him realise that. 

Axel must be going crazy, he decides, because it feels like a really, really good idea to brush the back of his hand against Roxas’, invitingly. He’s not expecting anything, not really, but then Roxas slides his hand into his, fingers curling, and squeezes. Axel’s metaphorical heart stops beating altogether. He watches the rest of the fireworks like that, the feeling of Roxas’ hand heavy and cold in his, and he doesn’t look at Roxas and knows that Roxas doesn’t look at him.

But, like summer, like everything, they come to an end. Axel watches the last trails of sparks falling down from the sky, Roxas’ hand still clammy and sticking to his warm one, and is overwhelmed with a sudden sadness. 

But, then, Roxas turns, whispers in his ear, and says  _ let’s get out here,  _ and suddenly Axel’s mood is a lot brighter.  

Riku and Naminé walk back to the cabins, because there are actual children they’re supposed to be looking after, but Sora lays down on his stomach in front of Kairi and he knows that they’re not going to see either of  _ them  _ for a while. And that just leaves Axel, and Roxas. 

“Come on,” says Roxas, tugging at his sleeve, and they walk in silence towards their favourite spot, by the rocks, ice cream sticks littering the floor. 

“So,” says Roxas. 

“Yeah,” says Axel, and then they’re kissing. 

It’s a particularly nice kiss, he must say. Much, much better than the last one. Axel is a pretty all-or-nothing guy, so he really gives this one his all. Sliding his hands around the back of Roxas’ head, one cupping his neck, fingers weaving in his the ends of his hair. Mouth opening against his, tongues curling around each other. He pulls himself closer to Roxas, so their chests are touching. He’s really pulling out all of the stops, here, using every trick he knows. Roxas becomes kind of frantic, almost anxious in his haste, so Axel soothes him with his thumbs, slowing down the kiss into something so oddly sweet yet still kind of angry and strange, but it feels  _ right,  _ to push Roxas up against a tree and ravage his mouth with his own. Axel has never kissed anybody who has fangs, too, and that’s a whole new situation to angle his head around, but it means that this is  _ different  _ and  _ special,  _ which it should be, because he’s Roxas. 

“Hnng,” says Roxas, pulling back for air. Axel instantly, instinctively, follows his mouth with his own. “Are we gonna talk about this?”

“Absolutely not,” says Axel, then sticks his nose in Roxas’ neck and kisses it one, two, a dozen times.

“That’s fair,” says Roxas, and then he makes a  _ noise  _ when Axel scrapes his fangs over his throat that leaves him both thrilled and a little frightened of his own emotional reaction to it. “I hate talking.”

“Mmm,” Axel agrees, somewhere near Roxas’ clavicle. “Me too.”

“That’s a lie,” says Roxas. 

“Shut up,” says Axel.

“This is probably a really bad idea.”

“Oh my God,” says Axel, pulling back to cradle Roxas’ face in his hands, pecking him on the lips two, three times in a row. “This is a great idea. This is an excellent idea. Out of all the ideas we’ve ever had, this is clearly, by far, the best one.”

“Okay,” says Roxas, and sticks his tongue in his mouth again. Axel’s metaphorical heart turns into a mushy, mushy mess. He bites Roxas’ lip and pulls it, just because he can so he will. 

Axel’s spent a lot of time in Hell, and a lot of time on the surface, in all the in-between spaces of the Earth, but now he’s floating on cloud  _ nine.  _

***

“She’s still following me around,” Roxas mutters, trying to ignore Princess headbutting him in the back as they walk to the river to see Kairi. 

“Handjobs don’t count,” says Axel, happily. He considers trying to hold Roxas’ hand, but thinks that maybe that’s not something friends-with-benefits do. He wouldn’t know. He’s never been in this situation before. 

“What about -” 

“I don’t think the blowjob counted, either,” Axel says. Roxas sighs, his shoulders deflating. “But we can arrange to get rid of her permanently, you know.”

“You sound like you’re going to murder the horse,” says Roxas. She licks Roxas’ ear, and he pulls an exasperated face at Axel. “Although that’s looking more and more appealing as the days go by.” 

“Maybe I’ll hold out on you forever, just because I feel bad for Princess.”

“Hell is empty,” says Roxas. “All the Devils are here.”

Axel kisses his cheek. Roxas scowls at him, and Axel laughs, rubbing the spot he just kissed with his sleeve. 

“You’re mixing up your literature again,” says Axel. 

“I’m allowed to read more than one book,” says Roxas. 

“Like you even went to school,” Axel snorts. “Where did you pick up  _ Paradise Lost _ ?”

“You said it yourself,” shrugs Roxas. “Weird demon kid.”

“What a twist of fate,” says Axel, smirking. 

“You could say it was destiny,” says Roxas. 

Axel tries really,  _ really  _ hard to not freak out at that. So he doesn’t; he pushes Roxas behind a tree, instead, and lets Roxas soothe his anxieties away with hands cradling Axel’s face as he kisses him. 

***

The sunset  _ probably  _ still looks the same as it has done this whole summer, but Axel can’t help but think maybe the view is a little better than usual. More vibrant, or something. Like the colours of the whole world have been adjusted to shine brighter just for the two of them. 

“Why are you watching the sunset when you could be making out with me?” Roxas whines. He’s been doing a lot of that recently. Whining, and not in the annoying, give-me-what-I-want way, but in the please-do-that-again-Axel, your-sexual-prowess-knows-no-bounds kind of way. 

“What, do you want some corny line about how the sunset is beautiful, but not as beautiful as you, sugarplum?”

“I wouldn’t complain,” says Roxas, and then tackles him off the rocks and onto the squishy grass. He really is like a dog who doesn’t know its own strength, swallowing Axel’s  _ oomph  _ sound when he hits the floor with his mouth. He tastes like ice cream, salty but sweet. 

Whatever. Who needs the stupid sunset, anyway? The sunset will be around forever, from now until the end of time, probably, but he’s only got one measly little summer with Roxas. 

***

Axel watches Roxas watch Princess playing with Michelle forlornly. 

“You’re so cute,” says Axel, leaning forward with his elbows on the table, chin resting in his hands. “I never thought I would see the day.”

“What? That I would miss the stupid horse?” 

“No,” says Axel, shaking his head. “That you’d get laid.” 

Roxas tears his eyes away from Princess to hit Axel around the head. 

“Whose fault is that?”

“Yours,” says Axel. “Might I remind you, you kissed me first."

“You stuck your hand down my pants first.” 

“Yes, but if you remember,  _ you  _ were the first one to -”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” says Roxas, hitting him again. “You’re disgusting, and we are surrounded by children.”

“Didn’t seem to bother you last night.”

“Fine. We are surrounded by children who are  _ awake  _ and  _ in our immediate vicinity. _ ” 

Axel pokes Roxas on the nose, just to make Roxas growl. He does. It does  _ things  _ to his stomach, and Axel should probably be more alarmed by the Pavlovian response he has between wolfy noises and insatiable arousal. Now they’ve started, Axel can’t stop. 

“We really should’ve planned ahead,” says Axel, gloomily watching Princess trot away from them without even looking back at Roxas once. “People are going to know.” 

“So?” says Roxas, and when Axel looks up at him, he actually looks  _ hurt.  _

“What?” 

Roxas growls, low in his throat, and Axel now knows that particular growl as  _ you’re being irritating and I’m trying to warn you I’m about to yell.  _

“Why do you care if people know?” 

“I didn’t think that’s what this was?” Axel offers, bleakly. He’s very lost and confused and apparently has suddenly, without warning, found himself in the middle of his first ever romantically involved argument. “Because it’s a secret, right?” 

“Funny,” says Roxas. “I didn’t get that memo.” 

And then, in true Roxas style, he storms off. Axel sits there, mouth open, wondering what in the Hell he did  _ now.  _

***

Axel is sulking. He’s not too proud to admit it. He just doesn’t understand why Roxas is like this. They had such a good thing going. They were having fun - like, a  _ lot  _ of fun,  _ naked  _ fun, and now Roxas went and got all angry at him for no reason and ruined everything. 

He’s sulking when he wakes up, he’s sulking when he serves breakfast, and now he’s sulking at the edge of the camp grounds, out into the woods, sat by the rocks, glaring at the ice cream sticks on the floor. 

“I hate you,” he tells the wooden sticks, instead of Roxas, because he doesn’t actually hate Roxas at all. Not even a little bit. That’s kind of the problem. 

There’s no need to make it so complicated. It’s only a summer fling, nothing more and nothing less. Intense and  _ really hot  _ and full of the kind of passion Milton - the miserable git -  _ wishes  _ he could have written about, sure, but only temporary. Summer will end. The world will keep turning on its cruel axis, and Axel will once again be banished into the cold depths of winter and hibernation and being really fucking lonely until next summer rolls around and he’ll have a whole new lot of recruits. He carefully, slowly, doesn’t think about how there won’t be another Sora, or Kairi, or Naminé, or even Riku. There definitely won’t be another Roxas, he thinks, but he’ll still be here because he has nowhere else to go. Roxas is probably going to go home and live a perfectly normal life, because it’s not like  _ he’s  _ a demon who will never get a job, never be able to live like a real person, always stuck somewhere between downstairs and upstairs. Because Roxas will find new places to belong in, new jobs and friends and experiences. New people to eat ice cream with. 

So, yeah, he’s sulking. He deserves to sulk. He  _ earned  _ this pity party. He’s having quite an enjoyable time, all things considered, until somebody decides to rudely interrupt his brooding session. 

“What do you want,” he tells Roxas, sullenly. 

“I want us to not be fighting,” says Roxas, firmly. “Fighting is stupid.”

“You sound like Sora,” says Axel. 

“Yeah, well,” says Roxas, frowning down at him. “Maybe he knocked some sense into me. Or something.” 

“Or something,” says Axel. “You’re the one who got in a mood with me.” 

“Because you’re being an idiot.”

“How am  _ I  _ the one being an idiot?” 

Axel’s pretty certain he’s literally smoking at the ears. His hands feel very hot and itchy. Who does Roxas think he is? He’s the one who decided to run away from this, from  _ them _ , just because Axel didn’t want to air his dirty laundry. He doesn’t want to deal with consequences right now. Consequences are for after, for fall, for orange leaves and shorter days and colder nights. Not for summer. This was supposed to be fun. Roxas is the one ruining that, not him. 

“Because you don’t see what’s right in front of you. Or are you blind, as well as dumb?”

“Maybe if you could stop being so cryptic for like, five minutes, and  _ talk  _ to me, I’d actually know what you were going on about.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Roxas fumes, hands fisting, fangs grinding. “Like, there is nobody who even comes close to matching how oblivious you are.”

“Uh,” says Axel, suddenly feeling very small. 

“I can’t believe you’re making me use actual words,” says Roxas. 

“Sorry?”

“You should be,” Roxas glares. Then, he takes a deep breath. “This is ridiculous. I hate you for this. Apart from the part where I don’t, I actually really like you, and I made that perfectly obvious only you’re a stupid idiot who can’t get his head out of his ass to  _ notice.  _ And this might have meant nothing to you but do you really think I’m the kind of guy to just - just - eat ice cream  _ watching the fucking sunset  _ with somebody who I have been  _ flirting with all summer,  _ by the way, and it not mean anything? You act like you know me so well, like you’ve got me all figured out, only you clearly don’t know me at all!”

“Oh,” says Axel, dumbfounded. “That’s the most words you’ve ever said.”

“Can you just - take me seriously? Like, are you actually capable of taking  _ anything  _ seriously?”

“Probably not,” says Axel. “You’ve been flirting with me all summer?”

“No,” says Roxas. “I only spend my time reciting poetry to people I hate.” 

He has a point. 

“I thought this was just, you know. A summer camp thing.”

“Well,” says Roxas, deflating. “Either I thought wrong, or you did. I guess it’s your choice, then.” 

Oh. 

“You mean,” says Axel. 

“Yeah,” says Roxas. “We don’t have to like, put a label on it or something. But I was planning on seeing you  _ outside  _ of camp, too. Apparently I got the wrong end of the stick.”

“No,” says Axel, standing up abruptly. “You didn’t.”

“But you -”

“Shh,” says Axel, and kisses him, pressing them close together, one hand on his chin and the other in the back of his hair. Roxas doesn’t seem to mind all that much, because he seemingly melts into him. 

“Kissed, as the gracious sign of great remorse,” Roxas mumbles into his mouth. 

“Oh my God, you  _ have  _ been flirting with me all summer.”

Axel goes cross-eyed, watching Roxas roll his. 

“I can’t believe you weren’t.”

“It’s my natural charm.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” says Roxas, and kisses him again. 

Roxas wants him around  _ permanently,  _ and he has no idea how, no idea of the logistics; no idea where he’ll be in a week, when Leechlake Forest Camp for the Naturally Unnatural and Supernaturally Gifted is over for the year, how he’ll get a job and where he’ll live, whether or not Roxas’ parents will accept their runaway, rebellious son coming home with a demon, whether they’ll even  _ like  _ him, because he is kind of the worst. He has no idea what’s going to happen, but he’s been promised ice-cream kisses and sunsets and bad poetry for like, a  _ while,  _ probably, and that doesn’t seem like such a bad idea at all. 

***

Axel has found himself in Hell. Again. 

“Oh, no,” he says, out loud. He’s on his knees, at the altar of the Devil, trying desperately to remember his lines. 

“Hey Axel,” says a familiar voice, and when he looks up he finds Roxas’ feral grin, the one with all of his teeth that Axel loves so much. 

“Hey,” says Axel. “What are you doing here?” 

“Let’s go get some ice cream,” he says. “Look.”

He brandishes a winner stick. 

“We can split the other one,” says Roxas. 

“Yeah, okay,” says Axel, and lets Roxas pull him up, threading their fingers together and leaving them there. “I hate this place, anyway.” 

They walk upstairs, hand in hand, past Sin and Death, through the Gates of Hell, spilling out onto the Earth, where the sun sets, somewhere on the horizon, and rises on another.  

***

Roxas might be Axel’s favourite person in the whole world ever, but Naminé is proving to be a close second. 

They’ve all stayed an extra day, after the kids left. They weren’t allowed to use the cabins, so Naminé drew a tent. She drew blankets and little chairs, she painted a whole scene; sausages on sticks, firewood, and one singular, blessed bottle of vodka. 

“I love you,” Axel tells her, sincerely. Roxas hits him, but Axel swats him off, concentrated solely on letting Naminé quite how grateful he is for cranberry mixer. He’s pretty good at holding his alcohol - he  _ is  _ a demon - but the whole world is looking rather fuzzy and dizzy and dark, so he lets his eyes glaze over the familiar flames of the campfire, lets himself relax into the cold feeling of Roxas’ hand on his leg, lets his tail swish back and forth contentedly. 

“We love you,” says Naminé, looking rather pink. “Thanks for being the best camp leader ever.”

“That’s the alcohol talking,” says Riku. “We actually all secretly hate you.”

“Especially Roxas,” says Roxas. 

Axel feels incredibly warm. He doesn’t say anything, just watches Riku eat a sausage like its poisoned, watches Sora think it’s a  _ really good idea  _ to go drunk skinny dipping, and Axel isn’t going to stop him, because he’s not his responsibility anymore and anyway Sora can probably do literally anything and the world would part itself so it doesn’t get in his way. He watches Naminé put down her sketchbook, for once, and smile up at Roxas, happy in a way he’s never really seen her. He feels Roxas rest his chin on Axel’s shoulder, and blows in his ear to get attention. 

“What do you want?” he tells Roxas, but there’s no heat in his voice. 

“This,” says Roxas, and Axel thinks that’s the most adorably lame thing he’s ever heard in his entire life and pokes him on the nose, then kisses him, in front of everyone, in front of the whole wide world. 

“‘Tis better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven,” drunk Roxas tells him, assuredly. 

“What does that mean?” 

“I don’t know,” Roxas whines. “I thought you liked that book.”

“Roxas,” says Axel, trying not to laugh at him because he knows Roxas doesn’t take it too well when he gets embarrassed. “I fucking hate  _ Paradise Lost.”  _

“Oh,” says Roxas. “Me too.” 

Axel grins, and Roxas grins back. 

Naminé offers them two sea salt ice creams. 

“I thought you guys might like these,” she says, and Roxas kisses her. “Oh!”

“So Roxas is a touchy-feely drunk,” says Axel. “That’s  _ very  _ good to know.”

“I’m sad to be leaving,” says Riku, solemnly. “But I’m not going to miss you two being - being - well, Axel-and-Roxas.” 

“Like you’ll be able to get rid of us!” yells Sora from the lake. Roxas gives him a little salute. 

Axel opens both ice creams, and passes one to Roxas. He looks over them all, over the lake, watching the last of the summer sun hide behind the horizon, the reds and pinks and oranges familiar in a way they never were before coming upstairs, colours he’d never even  _ seen  _ before, and he thinks about how there’s no ice cream in Hell.


End file.
